


you fell through the cracks in my hands

by wajjs



Series: Across The Universe (vld fics) [25]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Inspired by Music, Lost Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Angst, Unrequited Love, main (established) ship is kinkance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs
Summary: There are memories that haunt Shiro, memories of someone who's no longer, of a love that's gone.There are memories that haunt him, and Lance keeps shining whenever Kinkade is around.





	you fell through the cracks in my hands

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by Clean Bandit's song "[Baby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlznpxNGFGQ)". Marina's voice keeps playing in my head over and over and over again and this song will just not leave me alone, so here, take this story that was born as a result of that.
> 
> Also 100000000% dedicated to the cutest, loveliest friend, [nogu](http://nogurt-p.tumblr.com/) who let me ramble about this idea and cried together with me over it!

**you fell through the cracks in my hands**

The image is clear, like a fresh memory seen through eyes that are somehow not his own: the image is clear, the way he’s holding him, the way his gaze sweeps from those lively eyes, down the bridge of a thin nose to stop and focus on soft lips, cold lips, the temperature regulator hadn’t been working properly at that moment.

Cold lips that he warms up with his own.

He squeezes his eyes shut, equal parts confused by what his mind is presenting him and afraid of breaking the mirage by opening his eyes as wide as he wishes to open them. In his head the memory keeps playing, he’s kissing him and there’s a soft gasp that splays over his mouth, that soon melts into eagerness, into neediness, into a bone-deep craving that neither of them can deny.

_It is gone_ , he chants in his thoughts then, _it_ is gone, _it_ is gone, _it_ is gone.

But the memory isn’t, and tonight is another night he doesn’t get to sleep.

—

Shiro freezes where he’s standing as he watches with a carefully detached expression what’s unfolding not too far from him:

Lance brighter than the sunlight around him, spinning once, twice, the open jacket of his uniform adding to the grace of the movement. He’s spinning and getting his boots dirty in the mud, after months of drought it finally rained. His laughter is loud and full of life, perfect representation of who Shiro thinks Lance is; his laughter is pearly and incandescent, the driving force that makes them stronger, able to face any foe. And Lance laughs and rejoices in jubilous happiness: he knows how to enjoy each moment he’s living, like he’s spent so long in a state of hunger for life that now he savours each and every bite.

Together with him is the last person Shiro thought he’d see smiling. Shiro witnesses it happening right before his eyes, almost like a movie, how Kinkade grins as brightly as Lance laughs and then he joins the other in the eternally delightful moment, a moment that Shiro should not be spying on, should not be forcing his gaze upon.

He can’t quite help it, though. Without needing to close his eyes or turn away, the memory of _it_ —no, of _someone_ now long gone… one out of many memories starts haunting his thoughts and making the present all the more bitter: once Lance had laughed and shined with… with _him_ , that _other_ who once had been so much like Shiro yet so different.

Shiro had been so blind in his lack of knowledge, had been so careless, never noticing how much his ignorance of the events caused hurt and pain on someone who was silently mourning the loss of a confidant, a friend, a lover. He had thrown salt into the fresh wounds, even, caused them to fester, with each time he referred to that person, that not-Shiro, as an “ _it_ ”: he had made Lance’s blood run profusely in a river of sorrow. And now that he’s allowed access to those memories once locked to his own mind, now that he’s somehow reliving them by remembrance in painful sparks, he understands things about himself that before he didn’t.

He understands that he’s a fool. He realizes that denial runs so deep within his system that it had kicked in without him realizing: he realizes that denial made him unaware of how deeply, undeniably, madly, he loves Lance.

_The other_ ’s memories simmer hot and unforgiving inside him. Shiro knows he can’t share them with anyone: Lance and _the other_ had once agreed to keep things secret till they were all more settled. And secrecy had been perhaps the worst punishment for Lance: he’s been alone for the death of his lover, his partner, while no one would ever know… and the person who learned the truth, he learnt it too late.

—

Are you happy?

Shiro looks at Lance as he casually leans closer to Kinkade, as Kinkade’s lips twitch into a minuscule smile that’s the biggest display of affection he’ll indulge in while in the presence of others.

From where he’s standing he can see Lance pressing an elbow on the surface of the table and leaning into his palm to cover his mouth as the hand underneath reaches out to hold Kinkade’s hand.

Kinkade keeps listening to his teammates talking, apparently nothing changing but Shiro’s been looking for long enough to know: the line of his shoulders is softer, the shadows in his eyes are gone.

Are you healing?

Shiro should’ve known that Ryan is incredibly smart: those eyes that gaze at Lance with such fondness quickly capture Shiro in place, catching him staring. There’s not a challenge in his eyes, rather the start of a well of what looks like understanding. Under the table, Kinkade interlaces his fingers with Lance’s. The memories in Shiro’s head are revolting.

How come he misses so much something he personally never had? What’s in his head is not his, rather _the other_ ’s, yet his very soul yearns for such proximity, for such closeness. He’s too aware he lost all chance.

So he offers Ryan a reassuring smile; _make him happy_ , he thinks, _as happy as he deserves to be_. It’s impossible to know if Kinkade gets the message, if he understood what Shiro’s trying to convey even as his already broken heart keeps breaking. Maybe romantic love is something out of his reach, even farther away than stars once were.

Turning to join in on Keith’s conversation with Kolivan and Hunk, Shiro tries to shut off momentarily the memories of a love that was never his but still the loss feels like his own.

Lance is shining, shining so brightly he’s powerful enough to irradiate the room with hope.

Shiro’s eyes sting. He can’t ask Lance to turn down the brightness: he doesn’t have the right to, and he doesn't really want him to.

°

**Author's Note:**

> _y el tiempo se acaba... en 3, 2, 1._
> 
> [my tumblr so you can come scream at me](http://wajjs.tumblr.com)


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